


One Shot's from Prompts

by TS_Anxiety_Angst



Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-22 23:49:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 7,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11977677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TS_Anxiety_Angst/pseuds/TS_Anxiety_Angst





	1. It’s Just a Cut, Really (Virgil)

**TW:**  Cutting

 **Word Count:**  313

* * *

 

There were several things about what Virgil was doing that were probably going to get him in trouble. At the very least, he would have disappointed the others.

But they weren’t awake at 2:30 in the morning and he was alone in the bathroom, looking at the scars that lined his wrist. He’d wanted to give it up years ago. There was no real point since he couldn’t die, but there was something about it that held on to him. Like claws that dug deeper into him with every cut.

Recently, though, he actually had reason to stop. The others had finally accepted him. It was the thing he’d been hoping for, for as long as he could remember. Patton had always been there for him and Logan and he had made their peace after a while. Roman had been the last one to accept him.

Virgil was well aware of how he hindered Roman a lot and he knew that was why Roman had taken a long time to even tolerate him. Still, they’d finally made headway. He should have been happy. He  _was_  happy.

Except why was his razor calling to him even more loudly that before?

Why did he feel like his heart was trying to beat right out of his chest? Everything was so messed up and he couldn’t figure out why he wouldn’t throw away the damn razor. He didn’t need it, didn’t want it.

But maybe…maybe he did want it? Maybe it was the only familiar thing he could think of recently. Everything had become so overwhelming that maybe he just needed something he was accustomed to.

The pain had become a necessary part of him—something that he couldn’t just stop.

**It’s just a cut, really.**

He sucked in a breath as the metal sliced through the thin skin on his wrist.

It’s just a cut.


	2. Rise and Shine, Sweet Thing

**TW:**  Flashbacks

 **Word Count:**  784

 **Notes:**  human au 

* * *

There was very little Roman wouldn’t do for his friends.

For Patton he had come to his house in the middle of the night to kill the spider he’d bravely managed to quarantine to the bathroom.

For Logan, he’d stayed up all night helping the nerd study for a test they all knew he would ace.

On the flip side of the coin, he never asked anything of them. He didn’t feel like he need to. He was the strong one. The one who always rescued the others when they were peril and emerged victorious from every struggle he’d encountered.

 _Almost_  every struggle.

Nights like tonight had always made him rethink whether he was as brave as he thought. His unwavering confidence was a shield against thoughts like the ones running through his head, but even the best shields would be warn away after so many battles.

He sat in the oversized black jacket his boyfriend had loved watching the movie he adored, trying with everything to remember the way his voice sounded without looking at old videos. He found himself thinking back to the first time they had met and the first time he had put on the jacket.

Normally he hated slipping into the past, it swallowed him so completely, he didn’t know what was going on in the world around him, but right now he needed this. He needed more than what life had given him.

_Roman was exhausted. He’d stayed up all night with Logan, the damn calculator watch, going over note card after note card until he knew what Roman was going to say just by how his lips formed the words._

_The bags under his eyes didn’t look princely at all and it was bothering him. If only he could get some shut eyes, even for a few minutes._

_“Roman!” He turned as his energetic friend bounced toward him, a jacket on one arm and a person he’d never seen before on the other. “Look! I’ve made a new friend!”_

_“Really?” Roman eyed the jacket. It looked extremely comfortable. Maybe even comfortable enough for him to sleep through first hour. “I need that jacket. For, like, all day.”_

_“Oh, well, it’s—”_

_“Thanks.” Roman snatched it from Patton, barely even looking at the person he had brought in. Normally Roman liked to size up anyone who had the audacity to try and befriend his friends. Not that Logan or Patton would ever love anyone more than they loved him, but that wasn’t the point. This time, though, he was too tired for that._

_The entire, it didn’t take more than laying his head down for him to fall asleep in the jacket. It was soft, just oversized enough to feel comfortable, and it smelled amazing._

_By the end of the day, he felt more refreshed than he’d had in a while. He sat on the side of the wall, waiting for the other two to finally get outside, dozing in and out at the wind blew softly._

_“ **Rise and shine, sweet thing**.”_

_He jerked awake, leaning away from whoever decided to say that was a good idea. His eyes focused on a person with the most beautiful brown eyes. Though the sun was shining directly in his eyes, he didn’t blink, letting the light make his eyes look ethereal. The person smirked and leaned away._

_“I’d like to have my jacket back, please.”_

_“This is yours?”_

_“I don’t know whose jacket you thought it was, but yes.”_

_Roman wanted to get mad—how_ dare _he talk to him that way?—but he couldn’t find it in him. He was too flustered by how beautiful he was._

_“Go on a date with me.” The words fell out of Roman’s mouth before he could stop them._

_The person raised his eyebrows. “You don’t even know my name.”_

_“And you don’t know mine, but we could know each other’s if you said yes.”_

_The person blushed to his ears. “I’m Virgil.”_

_“Roman.” He smiled. Virgil was the cutest person he’d ever met outside of the mirror. “So when are you free?”_

The tears rolled down his cheeks as he settled back into the present. That had been before the accident. Before his parents had pushed him too far. Before Roman had fallen head over heels for him and before either of them knew what it meant to love another person so wholly.

He let out the sobs that had been hiding his heart from the moment they’d heard the news. His chest, his stomach, his throat ached with pain that almost made him wish he’d never met Virgil. Almost wish he’d fallen in love with someone else.

Almost.

Almost wasn’t enough.


	3. Fucks Given Zero. Next Please.

**Word Count:**  1216

**Notes:**  human au

* * *

 

The two of them were dreading coming to the castle. Virgil and Logan weren’t low ranking citizens like Peasants, but they weren’t Nobles either. Somehow, someway, he and his “roommate” were in the middle. They weren’t sure what to call themselves.

And that was the reason they didn’t want to go. Because they weren’t Nobles and had formerly been Peasants, the two of them could very quickly get knocked back down to status. However, because of that Virgil and Logan could understand their plight. Though they knew the treatment of the Peasants was morally wrong, there wasn’t much they could do about it, going to the Prince. Though it was said that his advisor was fair and just, the prince himself was cold and cared only for himself.

“This is a really bad idea,” Virgil said, looking at the guards at the front gate.

“Virgil, every idea and plan we’ve had have been a bad idea, there’s no time to go back now. Everyone is counting on us to at least speak with him.”

Logan was the realist who liked to believe he was always logical, but it was his fault they were there in the first place. While Virgil hadn’t been content telling the citizens that talking to the Prince would do nothing, he knew that the truth was what they needed.

It was Logan who went and messed it up.

“Yes, we can go to the castle.” Virgil stared at his boyfriend, shocked and agitated. They’d both agreed to tell them that they couldn’t. What the hell was he doing? “The very least we can do is try.”

“Thank you,  _thank you_.” The woman was near tears with joy.  _That_  had been what he wanted to avoid. Logan was charismatic by nature so maybe he had a chance with a reasonable ruler—and that ruler wasn’t theirs. All he was doing was needlessly getting their hopes up.

“When this goes belly up,” he whispered viciously to Logan as they walked through the front doors, “I am willing and able to kick your ass.”

“I love you,” he whispered back, causing Virgil to nearly trip over the carpet. Logan had, on several occasions, stated explicitly that if he ever uttered those words, it would be because he feared for his life. He hadn’t been raised to be sentimental and emotional. When they’d first met, he was sure love was nothing but a hindrance.

“We’re going to make it out of this alive, jackass. If you die on me, I will kill you.”

Logan snorted to hide his laugh. They stood before the doors to the throne room, arms locked to their sides. Virgil wanted nothing more than to take Logan’s hand for comfort, but the two of them weren’t more than roommates to the public. And it would be better if it stayed that way.

The doors opened revealing a thrown room lavish enough to pay for the Peasants necessities for years. The prince was no idiot so Virgil was sure he knew it.

_Twitch._

They dropped to one knee in front of the throne and waited before they could stand.

“You may stand.” The voice was too kind to be the prince’s, so Virgil spared a glance up. Next to the throne was a man who looked almost fatherly. He probably wasn’t much older than Virgil, but there was something about him that was just…comfortable.

The prince, lounging lazing on is throne, red sash made of the finest silks getting ruined by the opposing fabric of the throne, waved his hand for them to stand.

“My Prince, we have come—”

“With a request to clean up Peasant District F? Listen, I’ve already told you Nobles that I tolerate them for the economy’s sake.”

_Twitch._

“My Prince, we are not Nobles. We are not Peasants either.”

“If you were Peasants, you wouldn’t have made it past the gate. What  _are_  you?”

“We are in the middle. We don’t necessarily struggle, but we don’t live lavishly. We are here on behalf of the Peasants in District F. They humbly request that the food that they grow and harvest would go toward their families and loved ones. One the crops get harvested, they’re taken away by the Guard and then redistributed once the Nobles have gotten their share. However, the amount given back isn’t sufficient for them to survive.”

The advisor looked warily at the Prince.

Prince Roman, looked bored. “And what’s your point? You’re no longer one of them, what do you care?”

“My Prince,” The advisor stepped in, placing a gentle hand on the prince’s shoulder. “The sympathize to them because they used to be Peasants themselves. And I do think it’s worth at least considering.”

Virgil eyed him, realizing what he was doing. The advisor had probably been there for Roman since he was a kid and knew him well. Demands weren’t going to work, so gentle pushing was all he could manage.

Prince Roman shrugged his hand away.

“They’re Peasants so naturally they get less food. The more you pay, the more you can get.”

“But they’re the ones who put in hours of labor—”

“ **Zero fucks given. Next please.** ”

_Snap._

“ _Listen_ , your royal doucheness, the reason you can say that is because you aren’t the one in the fields. You aren’t the one doing back breaking labor for hours a day with little to no pay and the only reward you get is the meager amount of the crops you’re allowed from all those fucking months working. The reason you can so easily cast us aside is that you’ve never had to work a day in your Goddamn life. Everything you’ve ever wanted was handed to you and even if it wasn’t it was always within your grasp. Every single fucking day someone it hurt of severely injured working to provide you with the finest materials and best food because if they don’t they’ll get killed. I’ve had to attend twenty funerals in my life time because every single one of them is over worked. The only thing that sustains them is a false sense that they can get out of Peasantry when all know that’s fucking propaganda and no one gets out unless it’s by some miracle of God.

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to help because the only thing you know how to help is yourself and by God I swear that is all you will have left one day.”

Virgil was breathing hard, heart racing and hands shaking, adrenaline pumping through him.

Roman looked like he’d never been so insulted. The throne room was completely silent and Virgil knew it was the silence before the storm. He grabbed Logan by his shirt, kissing him like it was the last time because he knew it would be. He knew they would never see each other again except for at his grave.

He was pulled away by guards, watching his lover screamed his name, fighting his own restraints with all of his might.

“I LOVE YOU, VIRGIL! I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU!”

Virgil smiled sadly. He already knew how this would end and how he couldn’t be prouder of what his lover would do for him.

Tears fell down his cheeks as he whispered, “I know, love. I know.”


	4. So…What Are We?

**TW:** homophobia, violence, fighting

**Word Count:**  834

******Notes:**  human au

* * *

 

Patton hated to be annoying.

He always tried to be on the optimistic side of the spectrum but this time he was having doubts. He wasn’t going to make it out of this situation whole. The two of them had spiraled high on whatever is was they had. But now Logan was ignoring him. Ever since his dad had caught the two of them in his basement he had been quiet and withdrawn.

The two of them had found out about the other on accident. Patton had been in an argument with one of his friends on the phone after school had let out.

“Roman, all I’m saying is that you don’t need a label. You can be anything you want. I mean, I was pan before I started calling myself that.”

Logan walked around the corner, head in a book appearing to have no clue about what he had just walked into. Patton was sure he knew. How could he not? There was no one else around and it wasn’t like he’d been keeping his voice down. Patton hadn’t thought anyone had been there.

Logan said about it, the only indication being that he was look at Patton knowingly and Patton would feel smaller each time.

Patton found out Logan was gay when he did an essay over gay marriage. Maybe he’d been tired when he was typing the rough draft. Maybe he put it in there to see who would catch it. Whatever, the case, he referenced himself in those wishing to get married one day without it being illegal.

He found out, not soon after, that that had not been the case. Logan had grown up in an overly religious, LGBTQ+—phobic household. If there was even a remote chance of his family finding out, he would be dead.

The only reason Patton was able to gain his trust is because they were the holders of each other’s secrets. At first they spent a lot of time together because Logan wanted to make sure Patton didn’t spill the secret.

For the most part, Patton forgot about it until Logan would bring it up again. And the slowly, very slowly, the two of them became friends and neither of them could predict how quickly they would fall for the other.

Logan couldn’t recognize his feelings for the life of him and thought he was sick. When Patton kissed him, Logan looked confused and content. Like he couldn’t figure out why he felt so calm.

From there, the two of them dated in secret. Patton felt awful about keeping secret from his friends, Virgil and Roman, but he knew that Logan’s safety was more important. He knew that they would forgive him if that ever came to light.

It was bliss for a while.

And then that bliss ended.

Logan’s family was supposed to have gone for an overnight stay at their maternal grandma’s house. They should have been gone. Logan and Patton should have been free to be together without fear.

_Should_  have.

They came back because they forgot something and, with the music so loud, they didn’t hear the footsteps coming down the basement stairs. It was bliss until the flick of a switch ruined it all.

As soon as they separated, half dressed and hearts pounding for an entirely different reason, Logan’s dad attacked Logan.

Patton had screamed and pleaded and cried for him to stop. “ _You’re killing him! He’s going to die! Please, please, stop hurting him!_ ”

“Get out!” Logan screamed, trying to dodge his father’s fists. “Just leave!” But how could he just leave? How could he leave when the person who loved most in this world was dying in front of him?

“Why can’t you listen? Just get your ass out of here!”

“But Logan—”

“OUT!”

Patton flinched at his voice, there was nothing Patton could do. He wasn’t strong enough to fight for Logan, wasn’t smart enough to figure out what he could do. So he left, worried and anxious.

Since then, Logan avoided him. He kept to himself and his studies and refused to even look at Patton when he spoke to him.

But now it was just the two of them in the library. He could finally ask the question that had been on his mind.

Logan sat across from him as he built up the courage. “ **So…what are we now?** ”

It was then that Logan glanced up, eyes squinted with irritation. “It’s hard for something that was nothing to be anything.”

Patton’s heart seized up in his chest. “But I…I thought that we were…”

“Nothing, Patton, and we never will be.” He gathered his books and walked away, taking what little was left of Patton’s heart with him.

\- - -

Logan faltered on his way out the door of the library, trying his hardest to keep the tears at bay. No one would ever have his heart like Patton did—and he’d be damned if he ever gave it away again.


	5. Here’s a Glass of Whatever.

**TW:** guns

 **Word Count:**  557

 **Notes:**  future au

* * *

 

There were very few things in this world that Logan would do without thinking—many of which were the case because he had done them so many times. Combing his hair, brushing his teeth, running from the cops.

This time, though, he took the glass from the man helping him sit up and down it without a thought.

It was his own fault, really, that he was in such a precarious situation. He was only supposed to run logistics for the mission. He wasn’t supposed to leave his spot from the roof, but what was he supposed do when his partner was about to get caught?

“I can do this, Logan.”

“Roman, I swear to God if you go into that room you will not come out alive.”

“Come on, Logan.” Logan could hear the smirk in his voice. “When have you and I ever failed?”

“It’s not a matter of skill, it’s just a matter of being horribly outnumbered. I’ve disabled the system, but that’s nothing against twenty armed guards. I told you we should have brought Virgil with us.”

“That mopey, dopey sad sack refuses to work with me. Look, the longer I stay here, the more in trouble I could get. I’m going for it.”

“Roman—”

“Over and out.”

“Goddamn him!” Logan slapped his laptop shut and almost chucked it over the side of the building. If it wasn’t for the fact that he needed to remain unseen, he would have. The city was filled with screams so it never mattered how loud he was.

He packed all of his things away and slung his bag over his back. Despite being logistical support, everyone in their organization was capable of doing all jobs. That included infiltration and assassination along with his support skills.

And rescue when his partner was an arrogant idiot.

He grappled down the side of the building, keeping to the shadows until—

_CRASH_

He fell through the window, raining glass down on the guards.

Roman would never let him live this down, but if Roman didn’t live to harass him, he’d never forgive himself.

He had them by the element of surprise and that was all he needed. He grabbed Roman, resisted the urge to say  _I told you so_  and jumped back out the window. Gunshots sounded behind them as they fell to the streets below. He unbuckled his belt and left it with the rope. There was nothing in there that could be traced back to him.

He stumbled as a bullet hit his back but kept running. If either of them were discovered everything they worked for would be thrown out the window.

Luckily for them there were enough attempts on Emperor Patton’s livelihood that they would go mostly unnoticed.

He dragged Roman away to a small alley, one that was connected to their hide out. Logan collapse outside after managing to knock on the door.

\- - -

Virgil sighed as looked at the two idiots he called his boyfriends. He lifted Logan up to where he was sitting. “ **Here’s a glass of whatever.** ” He was barely sure what he was giving Logan since he was so tired from waiting up for the two of them.

Lord he needed headache medicine and a doctor.

And if he was feeling generous the doctor would be for Roman.


	6. Do It. I Dare You.

**TW:** death, semi-graph depictions of violence

**Word Count:**  308

**Notes:**  human au

* * *

 

Virgil’s hands were shaking with the weight of the sword.

Until now, he’d never viewed his curse as, well, a curse. It had been something mildly inconvenient at first. When he was a kid and couldn’t back down from a dare—maybe he got hurt and maybe he got in trouble. But as he got older, the dares stopped coming as frequently as they used to. Now, only at drunken parties did he have to deal with it.

_Do it. I dare you to never speak_.

Except someone had figured out the way the curse worked. Someone had been manipulating him into murdering the students on campus.

First it was Roman—he wrapped his hands around his throat and watched as the life faded from his eyes.

Then it was Logan—the skin of their back ran red with their blood as the whip stung again and again.

_Do it. I dare you to always listen_.

Now it was their friend. The first person who had ever broke through his hard exterior. The first person who had ever believed he was more than just a waste of space. Patton was the only person in this world that he loved and by God he wished he could stop.

His arms lifted up, hands shaking, heart pounding.

Patton had never looked so peaceful as he slept. Virgil stared down at his friend, hoping he didn’t wake up. He wanted Patton’s last memory of Virgil to be the one they’d shared right before he went to sleep. The one of Virgil laughing at his ridiculous impressions as he tried desperately to forget the murders he’d committed.

He brought the sword down as Patton opened his eyes.

“Virgil?”

**_Do it. I dare you_.**

His words were silenced by the blade at his neck.

_Do it. I dare you to shed no tears._


	7. Anything, Just Call Me, Okay?

**TW:** emotional abuse, maybe?

**Word Count:**  431

**Notes:**  human au

* * *

 

Virgil was used to the lecturing. It had been so many years since it started that he was practically immune to it. His mom was still droning on as he sat at his desk, looking up at her, wondering when the yelling would stop.

“I work all day and this is what I come home to? A dirty house and a lazy son who can’t be bothered to get his ass out of bed all day?”

_I’m not awake enough to make a mess_ , he thought to himself,  _why can’t you ask the eight other people who lived here_.

“You don’t have to do anything but go to school and get a job. Why can’t you do the simplest thing like clean your room in the meantime? I’m tired of my house looking like a goddamned pig pin, Virgil. I cook, I clean, I go to work, I bring home the money. You ought to be grateful I’m not like other parents who might wake you up by dumping the dirty mop water you left in the kitchen on you to wake you up.

“Get it together Virgil. You’re eighteen now. You living here is a luxury.”

He set his head down on the desk, trying to shut out the negative thoughts that crowded his mind every time his mother lectured him. Like it was his fault that the house was always dirty; he didn’t leave his room enough to make a mess.

And it wasn’t really the lectures that got to him, but the frequency in which his mother made him feel like a useless, ungrateful heathen that should be worshipping the ground she walked because she let him live there.

He wished he could say that if he had a choice he wouldn’t have grown up. He would have stayed a child because he saw adult life and how crazy it made his parents and older siblings. He saw how stressed and aggravated they tended to be and he didn’t want that. He wanted none of that.

“Virgil?”

His head shot up. He’d completely forgotten he’d been on a voice chat with his server. “I…I’m going to bed.”

“Virgil,” Patton said. “I know you don’t like to talk about home, and I never really knew why, but if you need me, you can just call. Even if you don’t want to talk about it.  **Anything, just call me, okay?** ”

“Yeah, sure.” He hoped the mic wasn’t picking up on his muffled sobs. He loved his friends more than he would ever say. “Thank you, Patton.”

“Anytime, kiddo. G’night.”


	8. Fuck Off. I Mean It.

**TW:**  fighting

**Word Count:**  368

******Notes:**  college au

* * *

 

Roman was used to a lot of things. He was, after all, a theatre student. The things theatre geeks did when the show was on the line were things out of horror stories at times. Nobody seemed to realize it, but he was one of the tamer ones.

Rejection was not one of the things he was used to.

So maybe he could have been nicer to Patton. Maybe the things he’d said weren’t the absolute best. And he wasn’t entirely at fault for what happened. It was a matter of getting kicked out of theatre, or play a harmless prank on a friend.

“Come on, Patton.” Roman was practically jogging to keep up with him. His mouth was a thin line of anger and his fists were balled up closely to his sides. “It was just a prank. You know I didn’t mean anything by it. Patton, please. Come on.” Roman grabbed his shoulder, but Patton violently shook it off. “Why are you so upset?”

Patton finally stopped and turned around to face Roman. “Upset?” Roman felt like his bones had been turned to ice. He’d never seen this side of Patton. He was usually the type to get disappointed instead of mad or upset. “I’m not  _upset_ , Roman. I’m pissed off.

“I was  _upset_  when I failed one of my classes. I was  _upset_  when I had to move dorm rooms. I was  _upset_  when I couldn’t help Virgil out of his slump. I’m pissed off that one of my best friends would chose some stupid club over me. I understand that theatre is your passion and there are many things you would do so you could keep acting. But that doesn’t mean you can sacrifice the dignity of you and everyone else you drag into your charades to keep it.

“I’m not upset or disappointed, Roman, I’m pissed. So believe me when I say  **fuck off. I mean it.** ”

Patton left Roman feeling smaller than he’d ever felt, trying desperately to find the words that could fix their friendship. He was creative and smart; this should have been easy. But every attempt ended with a blank slate he couldn’t fill.

What was  _wrong_  with him?


	9. It’s Just a Cut, Really (Roman).

**TW:**  none that I can think of, but tell me if there are any

**Word Count:**  143

**Prompt:**   _And then everything just disappears._

**Notes:**  N/A

* * *

 

In his dreams, Logan was wanted.

In his dreams, he knew how to express himself. He wasn’t afraid of his feeling because he knew how to control them without forgetting them.

In his dreams he had three friends that he loved. They cared about him and liked to be around him, even if Virgil was surly, Roman was vain, and Patton was naïve. They never judged him and only sought to help.

In his dreams, no one ever looked down on him for not being able to empathize with others. Everyone understood that it wasn’t always possible for everyone to be able to empathize all the time. Everyone knew that he cared, just in a different way.

In his dreams, nothing was like real life and everything was perfect.

In his dreams, Logan was wanted.

**And then everything just disappears**  as he wakes.


	10. And Then Everything Just Disappears.

**TW:**  none that I can think of, but tell me if there are any

 **Word Count:**  143

* * *

In his dreams, Logan was wanted.

In his dreams, he knew how to express himself. He wasn’t afraid of his feeling because he knew how to control them without forgetting them.

In his dreams he had three friends that he loved. They cared about him and liked to be around him, even if Virgil was surly, Roman was vain, and Patton was naïve. They never judged him and only sought to help.

In his dreams, no one ever looked down on him for not being able to empathize with others. Everyone understood that it wasn’t always possible for everyone to be able to empathize all the time. Everyone knew that he cared, just in a different way.

In his dreams, nothing was like real life and everything was perfect.

In his dreams, Logan was wanted.

 **And then everything just disappears**  as he wakes.


	11. What Did You Do With My Heart?

******TW:**  death of loved ones

**Word Count:**  1011

**Prompt:** [Picture Of Thomas With His Shirt Ripped Over His Heart]

**Notes:**  werewolf au bc im trash

* * *

 

He hadn’t done it one purpose. Of course, one would think Roman purposefully wore his dark clothes due to the fact that most of his wardrobe was colorful. It had almost been instinctual to wear dark clothes on today, the day his husband died.

He sighed glancing at his appearance. He looked a newborn vampire. Eyes sunken, skin pale, and a network of veins visible through his skin. It wasn’t entirely his fault that he looked so terrible. He always got like this when he was going to visit Virgil. Everything lost its appeal: food, sleep, sparring.

Taking a deep breath, he headed for the stairs after making sure Logan was watching his son, Tristan.

Logan and the other diplomat were already in the kitchen as Roman eased into room, trying make himself inconspicuous, and sat on Logan’s right.

Their guest didn’t pay him much mind for which he was thankful, but when he looked at him, Roman wanted to butt into the conversation as a vague sense of recognition rolled over him. He had large, beautiful brown eyes, a big smile, and black hair cut short. He was tall, taller than Roman and he was no shorty, with long and lanky limbs. It wasn’t necessarily his physical appearance that felt familiar. It was more of his mannerisms, the way his held herself. Then he laughed and it clicked into place: he reminded him of Virgil.

Virgil didn’t speak with just his hands, like most people. Instead, he spoke with his body, leaning forward, physically jumping into a conversation and maintaining avid eye contact whenever he was invested in the topic.

Finally, the man turned to Roman and introduced himself, but he didn’t hear him. As usual, when any deep thought of Virgil occurred to him, his mind went off the deep end—a point of no return. He excused himself and made a beeline for the back door. Roman promised to wait for Patton, but this visit couldn’t wait.

Roman trampled through the woods in a half-jog, only stopping to make sure he was going the right way. Though he came here often, the path was sometimes lost by falling leaves.

Finally, he made it to the gate. Some years ago, when the official Pack House was built, the headstones that had been place at the various Pack homes (all werewolves were cremated, but the headstones were honorary) had all migrated here, to Westmoor Replica. Around the same time, the then-Alpha set aside a plot of land for all future Alphas and Lunas. There were, roughly, twenty headstones in the acre. The last on the row was Virgil’s.

_Virgil A. Sanders_

_April 24 th, 1989 – April 24th, 2015_

_Our Leader, Our Friend, Our Brother_

The inscription was short, and to the point. Much like Virgil himself had been. Roman smiled as he always did when looking at the stone, thinking of what she would say that.

_I’m not_  that  _short_.

“It’s been a while, since I was last here. Sorry.” He sat down in front of the stone. “Tristan has grown a lot. He took his first steps last week. I never thought I’d be so proud of anyone for doing something so simple. Trina almost had a heart attack and wanted to get it on video, but as soon as she got her phone out, he’d already laid down and gone to sleep.” Roman laughed. “I do suppose it had been kind of exhausting for him.” Roman sat for a while, talking as if his husband were really there with him, relaying all of the amazing things their son had did, the pranks Trina pulled on Joan and Talyn with the help of Terrance. He told him about how he and his father had been getting along a little better, but it was still tough.

Rustling behind him stopped his tirade on his father. He turned to see the diplomatic woman bowed at the waist, looking at him hesitantly. “Sorry,” he said. “I make it a habit to pay my respects to former Alphas. It’s because of their guidance, whether good or bad, that I come to meet new people.” He straightened then kneeled next to him. They sat in silence until she spoke again. “Logan told me about your husband. Who he was and how he died from a sickness. I know it never helps, but I’m sorry.

“You know something weird? As he, Logan, was telling me about Virgil, I got this weird feeling I already knew everything he was telling me. And when he showed me a picture, I—I dunno.” Roman watched as he clenched and unclenched his fists. HIs voice shook as he spoke again. “I felt like I  _really_  knew him. Like I had known him enough to know that I loved him, but I know I’ve never met him before.”

Tears splattered his fists as he sniffled and tried to wipe his eyes. Roman looked at the leaves that started fall as they drifted towards the ground. “Virgil was like that, when he was alive. He had a way of making people feel at home—despite his sour personality. It was like that could trust him with anything no matter what it was.”

“Even so, you may think it’s weird that I’m crying over someone I’ve never met before, but…” He sniffled one last time and sat up straight. “We never got introduced.”

“I…couldn’t sit through it, sorry. I’m Roman.”

The man clasped his outstretched hand and smiled. “I’m Leo. Nice to meet you.”

\- - -

As he watched two of the people he loved most in the world from his perch on his headstone, Virgil smiled. He was glad that Drew had done right by him and kept her promise. They would never know the horrors that had happened in the previous timeline and that was for the better. They would finally— _finally_ —be happy even if it was without him.

_You asked me what I fought for, Drew. This is what I fought for: the happiness of those I love._


	12. No, I Don’t Need You.

**TW:**  none that I can think of but just ask/message me to tag it

**Word Count:**  827

**Notes:**  feudal au; i was a fool to think i would get much done since the video came out today but here’s at least one

* * *

 

There were many things Virgil’s parents liked to ruin for him. His childhood, for instance would be a big example. His belief that the world was pure at a very young age.

His ability to properly communicate with others.

Somehow, someway, he’d still managed to do his job. He was meant to befriend and gather intel on three rival clans’ children—Roman, Logan, and Patton. He wasn’t supposed to actually like them. He was supposed to care about their safety. He wasn’t supposed to have his happiness hinged on them like they were his lifeline to a drug he desperately needed.

He wasn’t supposed to fall in love.

There were so many things he wished could have been different between all of them, and by God he wished there was something he could do about what he was going be part of.

He could hardly believe in when his parents had told him.

“Everyone?” he’d asked, still reeling from the news even now, as they prepared to enter the manor.

“Are you suddenly deaf?” His mother had snapped. “Yes, everyone.”

Her words still echoed thorough his head as he pulled up his mask. He just needed to be fast enough to spare them.

Virgil was lucky he often asked to go ahead of the group during missions. Not because he was excited about the assassination or that he was interested in making his mark. No, Virgil went ahead because he wanted to get his job over with as soon as possible.

This time, however, he went ahead to warn them. If he managed to find them in time, maybe they’d be spared.

The manor was quiet as he approached the gate. It took only a moment to scale it. He stuck to the shadows from mere habit at this point, but this time he took extra care to keep out of sight. He didn’t need anyone to know he’d been there.

Before he could make it to the room he knew the three of them would be in, the manor erupted in a frenzy. Loud voices and trampling footsteps made him shrink further into his hiding spot.

It wasn’t supposed to start until at least another half hour. What could have tripped the alarm?

He didn’t care.

As long as he could get to them before the others did, as long as they got away, he could almost forgive himself for what he would do.

In the very back room, where Roman, Patton, and Logan would be guarded with the highest degree, were his parents. Armed guards were dead around them and Roman stood in front of the other two, sword in hand.

He had a cut on his face and a bruised that looked to be making his eyes swell shut. Patton was passed in Logan’s arms and though Logan wasn’t much of a fighter, he looked ready to kill.

There were very few times Virgil could count that he’d disobeyed his parents. So few he could count them on two fingers: the time he’d wandered into a neighboring clan’s borders when he wasn’t paying attention and the time he refused to don their masks.

Neither had ended well for him.

Yet something inside of him sparked and for the first time in his life, he felt that maybe, just maybe, he deserved something out of the mess the world had handed to him.

Virgil jumped between his parents and Roman, shaking off his mask and raising his hands in defense.

“What is this?” his mom asked, her knife almost wavering. “Traitor?”

“Yes.” He felt like he’d been shot with adrenaline he was almost shaking in his boots. “I will no longer follow you.”

Before he could think, he kissed Roman. It was everything he could have dreamed off, settling his nerves and giving him the courage to keep talking. “I love you.”

Roman smiled softly and said, “You’re perfect, but I don’t think now is the time to be professing your love.”

Virgil laughed. “And you call yourself a prince.”

“You’ll be nothing without us.” His mother said. Maybe he was imagining it, but maybe she was beginning to crack—her knife was shaking. “You’re week, spineless. You wouldn’t last a day among them.”

“You’ve lived your life in the dark,” his father said. “Now is not the time to come to light. You need us to survive.”

Roman grabbed the back of Virgil’s shirt he took a deep breath before saying, “ **No, I don’t need you.** ”

His mother lunged, but they were already gone.

They leapt through the window, Virgil getting on the other side of Patton. If Virgil knew his parents of his clan, they’d hunt for them incessantly.

But he was happy—thrilled!—to be running for his life with the people he loved and the man he was in love with.

Roman glanced at his as they hit the forest edge. “Not turning back, love.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”


	13. Alcohol Changes Everything. Even Love.

**TW:**  alcohol, drinking

 **Word Count:**  565

 **Prompt:**   _Alcohol changes everything. Even love._

* * *

 

 ****There were very few things that caused Roman to have regrets: not chasing an adventure, loves that could have been, roles he couldn’t fill.

Harmful words to those he loved.

On the rare occasion Roman drank, he did so with splendor—nothing but the best for his exquisite pallet. Except this time something went wrong.

He’d had  _waaaayy_  too much to drink. It was the first time in a long time that Roman had defeated such a strong foe and everyone had gathered to celebrate it in his room. Even Drew had decided to come despite her dislike for parties.

“I mean, I might as well,” she said, looking over the weapons hanging from her belt. “I’ve yet to see you drunk and I would like to see that.”

“Drew, I do not get drunk. Mistakes are made that way.”

“Oh, of course. Prince Roman can’t ever make a mistake.” She rolled her eyes and punched his shoulder good naturedly. “I’ll be there to clean you up after, don’t worry.”

From there, Roman had worked all day to get it set up and everyone was having a good time when it started. Even Patton, who had been running around making sure everyone was playing it safe, looked excited. Of course, Patton always looked excited so it was hard to tell.

He probably should have been keeping track of how many drinks he’d been having, but who could blame him for not noticing? He had guests to entertain! It was his party, after all, he needed to make sure everyone was happy.

Patton sidled up next to him as he sat down at a table, suddenly dizzy from standing.

“How ya holding up, Princey?”

“I’ve better.” Lord he should have stopped an hour ago. Everything was starting to get dark around the edges. “You wanna know something?”

“Lay it on me.” Patton sat at the table, resting his chin in his hands.

“There are time when I really can’t stand you,” he slurred. Roman blinked slowly, trying to decipher what he just said. He was pretty sure it had been mean but maybe it wasn’t. It probably wasn’t. “I mean, you just make it so difficult for me to go dream chasing when you’re in one of your moods. Thomas can hardly focus like that and that means nothing for me. Sometimes I just wish you were cold and unfeeling so that I could get things done. Or maybe it’d work if you just weren’t here at all.”

By look on Patton’s face, maybe it was something mean. And  _why_  couldn’t he see straight? Everything was going dark as he opened his mouth again and he felt like vomit was coming up, but it was a different type of vomit. Words that spilled out with no caution to whom they hit and how badly they hurt. His consciousness slipped away along with the rest of his filter.

Later, when he was sober, he would be grateful he wasn’t aware of all the awful things he’d confessed to Patton.

Roman was sure that he loved Patton, but  **alcohol changes everything. Even love.**

He’d heard it somewhere before and never understood it. But now that Patton wouldn’t even look in his direction without getting teary eyes, he finally understood: love and trust were fragile and nothing could weaken that bond like an unfiltered idiot with too many insecurities.


End file.
